


A Bad Choice

by StrawberryRuffles



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anal Sex, Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Forced Marriage, Forced Orgasm, Forced Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oral Sex, POV Daryl Dixon, POV Rick, Rough Sex, Sexual Abuse, Spanking, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-11-19 19:40:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11320296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryRuffles/pseuds/StrawberryRuffles
Summary: Rick was given an ultimatum: marry Negan or another of his friends would die. He had made his choice.





	1. Chapter 1

He made a choice and he sometimes he believed he made the wrong choice. He couldn’t help feel guilty about how he thought that. When Negan asked him to marry him or he would kill another member of his group – his family – the choice was obvious in that moment. Yet now as he lay in the overly comfortable bed, unable to lie in a position which didn’t hurt after the sores and bruises from the previous night, he realised his decision caused his life to be over.

And he could no longer protect Alexandria and its people now he was here and his group may die anyway. He couldn’t even protect his own son. At that standoff, after Glenn and Abraham died, he was so sure of himself, but he had been blinded by grief and despair.

Looking down, he saw the already dark bruises and quickly covered them with the white duvet. He had had worse.

The door creaked open and in an instance he closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep so he wouldn’t have to face Negan after the humiliation of the night. He kept them closed as Negan sat on the bed beside him and stroked his hair out of his face; it was a surprisingly gentle touch to contrast the roughness only hours ago. He tried hard not to pull away from his touch, but he knew he couldn’t pretend to be asleep much longer, though he couldn’t deny that the contact felt good and somehow was calming.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

“Morning, sunshine,” Negan grinned, carrying on with stroking his hand through his hair. This time he did move away from his touch – away from those hands that had killed his friends. “Now, come on, you don’t have to be like that. You’re more than welcome to change your mind at any point and go back to Alexandria. Of course at the cost of a life or two. You know nothing’s ever free, Rick.”

He hated when he taunted him. Begrudgingly, he moved back into the spot and allowed Negan to continue. “That’s my boy,” Negan said. His patronisation only made Rick want to grab Lucille more and beat him to death with it. After all, she was in arm’s reach – he felt Negan always did that on purpose.

Negan didn’t say anything else which puzzled Rick. Not even one more snarky comment. Instead he just carried on running his fingers through the dark curls of his hair. For once it was Rick who broke the silence.

“So, am I going to start working for you and pulling around my weight here?” He hated being stuck in this room all day and maybe if he was good enough he could go Alexandria for some errand. Even if it was taking food and other supplies away from his people, it would be good enough.

“As good you are with a gun, Rick, I don’t need any more men. Besides, you see any of my other wives workin’? Hell, if you are too.”

“I can be useful,” he replied, looking up at him into those dark, deceitful eyes.

“I’m sure you would, sweetheart.”

“So?” Rick said through gritted teeth at the use of the pet name. He knew better than to question or dispute it.

“I think you’re already useful here.” Negan leaned in towards him and pressed his lips against his and Rick kissed back, understanding he had to play his role if he was ever going to survive this. Again, it seemed a lot tender than the kisses yesterday. Maybe something had angered him then and it was him he took it out on. Perhaps something had gone down when Negan went out and he hoped it was not Alexandria that had pissed him off. He hated not knowing whether they were OK.

When Negan pulled away, Rick spoke. “Please let me work. I don’t want to be stuck here all day not knowing what to do. It’s not what I’m used to. I need a purpose or just something. Even the most tedious task will do it. Just anything.” _Anything_ being some kind of distraction from the bad memories replaying in his head over and over again.

“Give it time, you’ll get used to it. Relax, put your feet up. Don’t worry about it because there ain’t anything to worry about anymore. Not about supplies or fighting another group. All you’ve got to concentrate on is this.”

“And what is ‘this’?”

“You want me to give you another demonstration or something?”

“I’m good.”

“You sure I don’t need to make it a little more loud and clear for you. See, Rick, you have trouble understanding things and that is the bit I don’t like so turn over.”

He regretted that he hadn’t stopped talking. “Please, I–”

“What, sweetheart? You don’t want to? Because that is not what I like to hear and you’re really making me seem like the bad guy right now.”

“No, that’s not what I said.”

“I mean I wouldn’t want to be with someone who doesn’t feel the same about me.”

“Yeah, I do. I want you.” Rick pressed his lips together tightly to prevent vocalizing the pain of his injuries. It was more because he didn’t want to seem pathetic than anything. At least being pressed down into the pillow meant his tears wouldn’t be visible. He tried to relax himself as much as possible and Negan pressed two fingers up to his opening. He began to slick him up with lube generously.

The weight of the man pinned him down into the mattress and he resisted struggling against it, though that is all he wanted to do. He had faced so much else than this and he was not going to let this break him. Negan was already hard and so he went inside him almost immediately. This time he was a lot gentler with his thrusts, but that didn’t stop it hurting because he was still so sore. Against the pain, Rick moved himself back onto his dick.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Negan breathed down his ear, gradually getting harder on each thrust. Rick felt as though he may tear him at any moment. A sound of pain escaped his lips but to his surprise, Negan paced himself instead of punishing him. Negan pushed his hand under him and rubbed his hand down his length, overwhelming Rick with the sense of pleasure and pain blurred together. He began to harden himself and actually found that going back onto him wasn’t as difficult as it first was. It wasn’t long before he came himself soon after Negan did and when he did he almost forgot all the bad things that had happened lately.

Sweat was running down the side of his face and Negan wiped it away. He kissed the side of his forehead. “You should shower. I’ll be home tonight, honey.” 

When he left, Rick lay in the bed never feeling so ashamed. He hated himself that he had enjoyed it for a brief moment. He figured Negan had done this deliberately to make him feel this way because this was the first time he had focused on his pleasure as well as his own. This had only made him wanted to kill him more and he would eventually, maybe even with his own bat. At least without having to work for the Saviors, Rick had a while to contemplate just how he could bring about that result.

But for now he had to go along with whatever Negan said and would play his game.


	2. Chapter 2

Rick had spent most of the day noting down what he could find about this place. The door wasn’t locked this time, but that didn’t mean he was free to go wherever he wanted because somebody would likely see him. Everybody knew his face here; it would make escaping difficult. Instead he found himself noting down shift changes where he could, watching when the people changed on the outpost which he could just about see through the window. When they were distracted would be a great time to escape, yet none of that mattered if he couldn’t get word out to Alexandria. They needed to know when to expect him if they had any chance of winning this fight. He tucked his journal into the back of his trousers and put his shirt over it before he left the room.

He explored the compound – everywhere he went he could feel all eyes being turned to him, but mostly he noticed how one of Negan’s henchmen was following him. It figured that Negan would have ordered someone to keep an eye on him, knowing Rick’s past behaviour. He wasn’t too concerned about it right now; he was sure that he could be lost easily if the time came to it. He most likely carried a gun and a better plan would be to knock him out, though he was of a far stronger build. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was more than one man tailing him.

The main hub was where most of the people gathered. He figured it would be a good place to lose the man who was following him when it came to the time since it was packed full of people; it would be hard to pick anyone out in the crowd. He got into the queue where a woman was selling food; he planned to make Negan a meal like a good wife. Hopefully, it would get him to trust him a little more, though it was an obvious ruse.

The rest of the people in the queue moved to the side and the woman signalled Rick to come forward. This wasn’t the kind of reception he thought would come from these people. He could have sworn they looked at him almost like they feared him. They definitely knew who he was, yet he was confused by the way they behaved around him. Maybe it was more pity for him being a prisoner, but it was hard to interpret any look as anything other than threatening after being in the world outside for too long.

He gathered the food he wanted without saying a word, and quickly jotted down his name alongside what he had taken, playing by Negan’s rules. Rick wanted to get out of that place as soon as possible. He wasn’t sure whether to be angry at Negan’s people for being complicit or whether he should be sympathetic towards them for having a merciless tyrant for a leader.

Negan came home in a bad mood. Cautiously, Rick put his dinner down on the table in front of him – his moods hardly went unnoticed for him. He didn’t dare say anything. He simply sat opposite to him and ate, despite not having much of an appetite – though the meal smelled undeniably good. Rick wasn’t exactly a good cook, but the roast dinner turned out alright after following the instructions. It was funny how many supplies they had here – even enough cows for the purposes of meat, not only milk.

Across from him, Negan loudly and obnoxiously chewed through the beef and kept his eyes trained on Rick. He pretended not to notice, and focused on his own meal and getting it down without throwing it back up. After all the things he had seen, it had definitely taken its toll on his ability to eat as well as sleep.

Rick risked speaking. “You like it?”

“I guess I’ll make a wife of you yet,” Negan mumbled whilst eating. Even the way he ate disgusted Rick.

“I’m not used to cooking. We don’t have food like this is Alexandria. Just whatever we scavenge.” He wanted to carry on the small talk, hoping it would lead to finding out something useful.

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“You go there today?” Rick asked, desperate for the answer. “You see my son?”

“Surely it should be our son, Rick? And I’m not forgetting our daughter either.” Negan scorned. It was so hard for Rick to bite back his anger when it concerned Carl or Judith. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a good step-daddy to both of them and gift them plenty of presents for Christmas and birthdays. I don’t want them to think I don’t care about them now, do I?” He had a permanent smirk on his face.

Negan could see the anger building in Rick’s eyes. Rick kept his mouth shut tight knowing the next words out of his mouth would be punishable.

“I’ll put on the tags they’re from both of us, though I’m thinking maybe they should move in at some point. Maybe not Carl at the age he is, but Judith – she should definitely be here. She should be with her dad and I’m betting she’ll really earn her place amongst us. Let her give a few swings of Lucille now and again, and teach her to kill the dead and living alike. What’s the difference after all?”

Rick met his gaze and held it. “You touch her, you even go near her, I will kill you.”

Negan stopped eating and put his cutlery down on the plate with a loud clang. “Sounds like you’re threatening me again, Rick. That can’t be right. I mean, you’d think a guy would learn after I beat two of his friends to death. And like the good kind of guy I am, I was willing to let all that shit from before slip. The meal was a step forward, but you then follow it with saying something to take us two steps back.”

“I will do whatever you want me to do, just please don’t bring them into this.”

“They’re already in this. Hell, you must see that, or are you all beauty and no brains?”

Rick stood up with a sudden movement. “They come nowhere near this goddamn place and they come nowhere near _you_ ,” he snapped, his volume raising gradually. He regretted his decision the moment he did, yet a small mercy was that no one else could pay for his mistakes right now.

Slowly, Negan stood up from the table as well, his chair loudly scraping against the floor. Rick looked around the room, unsure what he was searching for – maybe a weapon or some kind of defence – but it was easier to look at anything other than read the other man’s face. He walked over to him and grabbed Rick’s mostly full plate and then his own, leaving the room as he dropped them into the kitchen sink.

Rick remember the knife he had taken from the kitchen was tucked away in his boot and he swiftly took hold of it, holding it behind his back. When he came back in and walked towards him, he found himself backing away to the wall.

“You ever had children, can’t you understand?” Rick pleaded, unsure at what he was pleading for.

“Kneel.”

“What?” He had heard right, yet it was a measly attempt to buy some time.

“Kneel, like everybody else here does when I walk into the room. I made an exception for you after that shitty day, but you make it so damn hard, sweetheart. So, kneel.”

He did this time, keeping one hard behind his back to clasp the knife.

“Open your mouth.” Negan unzipped his trousers.

“I–”

“You really gonna make me repeat myself again, Rick?”

He hesitated and then parted his lips slightly.

“You’re gonna need it wider than that,” Negan grinned. He pushed his mouth apart with his fingers. The feel of his leather glove against his lips made him shiver. He noticed he hadn’t been wearing the glove during dinner and must have just put it on.

Negan held his aching erection in front of his face, inches away. “You surely don’t need to make me ask the next bit, darling?”

Rick forced himself to take him into his mouth, but was hardly experienced in doing so. He tried to take more of him, yet it only resulted in him gagging. Negan held his head despite the resistance and pushed him back on it using his hair as leverage. Rick tried to pull away whilst struggling to breathe, but his hold was too tight.

It would be so easy to use the knife and stab him. He gripped it so hard its handle made marks in his hand. Negan was distracted and he had the perfect moment, yet he knew there would be more consequences if he acted now.

Still, he acted.

Just as he was about to kill the man who had brought him and his family so much pain, Negan pulled out from deep within his throat and hit him hard across the face with the hand with the leather glove. Rick was sent to the floor and he barely had time to react as Negan turned him onto his front and seized the knife from his hand.  
He held it to his throat whilst his other hand held his wrists together. “You really thought I wouldn’t notice a knife going missing as soon as you happen to get here? I had a little faith and I thought, ‘No, Rick wouldn’t be dumb enough to do that’ and then I go and check the kitchen drawers. So, tell me, what was the plan? Wait until he’s asleep and slit his throat, or something far more violent?”

“No, it wasn’t for you,” Rick argued.

“Right, and I suppose it would be for the countless of other enemies you have here?”

“It was for the guy you had following me.” That was the most believable lie he could come up with.

“And you decide to keep it on you over dinner?”

“If I wanted to kill you that much surely poison would be the way to do it,” Rick hissed, trying to break free of Negan’s hold.

“Even if what you’re saying is true then I can’t have you exactly going around killing my men. We’ve been here before. So, I’m gonna give you another choice. Who am I taking this out on? You or Alexandria? I usually have a thing about not hitting my wives, but you don’t seem to understand anything other than violence.”

“I will not and never be one or your wives,” Rick shouted, breaking free and punching him in the face. Negan looked pissed as the red mark was visible across his cheek. There was a struggle, yet it wasn’t long before Negan was pinning Rick to the floor again with him on his back this time. He laid his body across him so that he was unable to move and land another punch.

“Never a dull day,” Negan said with that same smirk. The arguments and the drama only seemed to excite him more. It didn’t seem to matter to him that Rick wanted him dead. 

“Now, are you gonna finish me off or what?”

He couldn’t move at all and spat in his face instead, except Negan didn’t look angry, only aroused from it.

“Get the fuck off me,” Rick said in a low voice, the panic already setting in from the uncertainty of what would happen next.

“You or Alexandria?” Negan repeated.

“You already know that answer.” He grabbed him by the throat and pulled him towards the bedroom. There was no getting out of this one. Negan threw him on the bed and then pulled down Rick’s jeans. It surprised him when he didn’t take him and instead he brought down his gloved hand on his ass.

“You’re going to apologise,” he ordered, bringing his hand down again. Rick yelled out as Negan held none of his strength back and tears built in his eyes. This kind of humiliation was designed to stay with him.

Every blow made him cry out. It was a few hits in when Rick finally decided to give into Negan’s demand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

“Speak up. I don’t think I heard you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” He asked it as though he was speaking to a child. He hit him again with force, every hit stinging.

“For taking the knife.”

“And it will never happen again?”

“It will never happen again,” Rick agreed, believing himself.

“Good.” He stopped the spanking, removing the leather glove. “Please learn from this. I in no way enjoy it. Hell, you always push my hand and make me do this to you.” Rick knew he was a sobbing mess, the pillow soaking up his tears. “I’ll help you clean up.”


	3. Chapter 3

Rick woke up feeling worse than ever. At least sleep had come to him easily last night, a small blessing. When he turned over slowly, trying not to cause himself any more pain, he was relieved to find that Negan wasn’t there. With a lot of exertion, he managed to get himself into an upright position. Whatever position he was in was painful, but he always hated being confined to a bed; it felt better when he could fight through the pain.

The door swung open. He wished he could be alone for a little longer, just for some kind of privacy. Another blessing was that no one he cared about was around to see him in this state. He didn’t dare look a mirror for a good while. Though he would give anything for it to be Daryl or someone else coming in rather than the man he feared more than anything.

“Good, you’re up. I made you breakfast.” Rick nodded whilst keeping his head down as if to thank him when Negan laid down the tray on his lap, though he wasn’t up to eating. The taste of blood remained in his mouth from when he was hit to the floor and he still felt so sick from yesterday. If he took one bite of food, he knew it was just going to come back up later.

Negan sat beside him and swung his legs round onto the bed. “I know it’s hard for you being here and I’ve tried to do this too quickly. You need time to settle. Fuck, it’s my bad, I hear you, but from now on I’ll try a little harder to make this easier for you. I want you to stay in our room for the time being, can’t have you going out like that,” he said, gesturing to the bruise on his face.

Rick already regretted he had acted this early, and now he knew may not have a chance to act again. He didn’t have the energy to argue and he couldn’t think straight right now. He only was able to understand Negan’s words if he concentrated hard.

“I’ll post a guy outside and he’ll bring you anything you need.”

There was a pause where Negan waited for Rick to dispute it; he said nothing, staring at the breakfast. The smell of the tea was potent and that was the only thing he was up to, though he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of accepting anything from him right now.

“Shit, I break you already? You want me to kiss anything better?” Negan said, his smirk quickly disappeared when there was no reply, only silence. “We have a doctor here, if you really need one.” He shook his head, though as he did he noticed how blurry everything went. All he wanted was to go back to sleep and hopefully have that brief moment in waking up where you forget everything bad before it all comes flooding back. He wanted to forget how helpless he was: he couldn’t even protect himself let alone those who mattered.

“You know, I wish we’d met on better terms. You hadn’t killed my men. I hadn’t killed your friends in return. We wouldn’t be in this shit. You wouldn’t want to kill me and I would be able to trust you.”

Rick spoke, his voice unused and hoarse, “I could never love someone like you.” He only just managed to form the sentence, his head felt so clouded.

For a moment, it was like Rick saw a break in his character, but it disappeared quickly. “Look around, Rick. Every man is like me. The only difference is that I am actually at the top of my game. And you can sit there pointing fingers, but you’ve probably done things just as bad. And you might argue that it was to protect someone or some other bullshit excuse you wanna give me, but then I could say what I did was all to protect my people.”

“I don’t enjoy it. You do.”

“And that’s exactly what I like about you, Rick. Why I picked you. You do what needs doing to survive and you’ve got what most of these men have lost. Fuck, it ain’t even about _you_ most times, I’m betting you were gonna kill me to protect your family and I respect that. Though, without stating the obvious, that isn’t the most desirable outcome for me. Sometimes you seem like you’re learning, but then you do something or look at me in that way that really pisses me off. Now, I’ve done the good and decent thing a guy can do and have given you everything you could possibly want and you throw it all back in my face.”

“Everything I want?” Rick said in a low voice, his rage seeping through into his bitter words. “You think breakfast in bed is gonna make everything alright?” He took a deep breath to calm himself down as well as try and get back his coherent thoughts. 

“Well, it sure helps, right? You got to give this place a chance. Trust me when I say Alexandria is far safer without you there to rile things up. Stop worrying your pretty little head about these things and let’s go to the infirmary. Get something for your face at least.”

Rick didn’t want to go anywhere with him, though he guessed Negan would insist and his energy to argue was almost depleted. He wanted to save his energy for something that was worth it. Besides, the thought of painkiller was almost numbing the pain in itself.

He accepted Negan’s hand to help him up because he wouldn’t have been able to get up on his own. It actually seemed worse to stand up after sleeping on a comfortable bed. The blood rush and pain from getting up so quickly made him want to faint, but he used Negan’s arm to help stable himself. The injuries from the first night had only worsened at the trauma from being thrown down last night.

“Shit,” Negan said under his breath, seeing the patch of blood he had left behind on the white pillow. He hadn’t noticed the wound on the back of his head that was probably a result from the struggle. He turned his head to the side and parted the hair at the back. His curls were sticky with blood in places and he gritted his teeth as Negan ran his hand briefly past where he had hit his head. He gave Rick a while to gain back his balance before they moved. Rick kept hold of his arm as they went down the corridor.

“How much further?” Rick said as they got to the end. He could barely walk straight. He knew he had hit his head, but it wasn’t until this morning where it kicked in, maybe his concussion was why he was able to sleep so well, though sleeping with a concussion without treatment was probably the worst thing he could have done.

“It’s in another block, but there’s a shortcut so we don’t have to go all the way round. This whole thing better not be a trick for you to try and kill me with a scalpel. That better not be just a cut on your head.”

Negan led him to a door and unlocked it with one of the many keys he had on him. Rick noted down in his head that it was the rusted silver with three distinct grooves and remembered the route to the door. He had forgotten that their camp went far beyond the rooms he was allowed in. At least this gave him a chance to see the different blocks: the more he knew about this place, the better.

The block they entered downgraded in quality, yet it was still better than half the places he had stayed. He was definitely being held in the luxury part that was evident. He tried to record the possible exits and routes he could go in his head, but his head was spinning, not helped by the bright lights. He pulled back on Negan’s arm as if to ask him to stop for a minute.

Negan waited until he gave the signal to go on forward. He was surprisingly quiet which Rick was glad for. He pushed himself on. Finally, they got to the med bay. Rick almost fell through the door, but Negan managed to pull him back up.

He steadied himself. 

The world came back to him. 

And when it did, he thought he was hallucinating.

He looked up and saw Daryl, mopping the floor, dressed in dirty white. Daryl returned his open-eyed glare. It was so good to see a familiar face. His eyes were fixed on his and he missed the anger fixed upon Negan’s face.

“Daryl?” Rick groaned, barely audible. He collapsed, and Daryl moved forward to catch him. He helped him up onto the metal table, gently laying him down. Rick reached out to touch his hand as if he was checking whether he was real. He took hold of it, the feeling allowing him to escape the pain. It didn’t matter whether he wasn’t real, only that he felt real.

Daryl saw the blood coming from Rick’s head, and the bruises upon his face. His pupils were dilated. And then he saw the bruises pressed into his wrists.

“Rick?” he said, his grip tightening on his hand. Rick replied something inaudible, his words trailing off.

His attention quickly turned to his captor.

“The _hell_ you done to him?” Daryl shouted, lashing out towards Negan. He saw red and there was no controlling his anger now, after seeing the state Rick was in. There was no way he could back off now. He _needed_ to kill Negan. He punched him in the face, despite the consequences that would come later. He managed to get a few good hits in before Negan’s men came in.

Hearing Daryl brought him out of his dazed state. Rick begged them to stop hitting him, but they didn’t and that wasn’t because they couldn’t hear him.

He tried to get up to stop them. Using his arm strength, he managed to sit upright. He could barely focus on what was happening, though he could hear Daryl saying his name as clear as day. He pushed himself forward, and tried to pull one of the men away from him. The man pushed backwards, sending him to the floor.

He remembered Negan’s arms around him, moving him back onto the table, before he blacked out.


	4. Chapter 4

_Daryl._

It was his first word when he came to, yet it was not Daryl who stood by his bedside. When he opened his eyes, he immediately retracted his hand from Negan’s grasp. But then the entire situation came flooding back to him and he thought quickly, taking hold of Negan’s hand again.

“You feelin’ better?” Negan asked, squeezing his hand lightly. He nodded: his head felt so much clearer, though everything still felt surreal in a way. It was like he was still in a dream with no control over it; he knew it was real, it was just it didn’t feel real. 

He understood everything and he wished he didn’t as that made it all feel better.

“Where’s Daryl?” he questioned, despite knowing that was the last thing Negan probably wanted to hear. It was the only thing Rick wanted to hear. He tried to get up, only managing to get into the sitting position until Negan pushed him lightly back.

“Doesn’t matter right now and you’re staying right here. You’ve gotta concentrate on getting better. Bed rest and shit. Doctor says it’ll take time to recover.”

“I want to see him,” Rick asserted. He felt Negan’s grip tighten.

“Not an option. He wasn’t even supposed to be there. You ain’t seeing him and that’s my final decision on that and if you’ve got a problem, I’d really recommend you keep your mouth shut on that one.” His voice kept steady and he didn’t raise it which was arguably even more unnerving.

“Is he alright?” He already knew the answer; he had to ask it anyway. 

“I’ll be straight with you, Rick. Nah, not really. He was out of order and I gotta set an example. I let him get away with something like punching me square in the face and then I look weak. A weak leader is not a guy you follow.”

Rick wanted to kill him and live up to the promise he made to himself. He would kill him in the worst way possible by the end of all this, except he wasn’t in any condition to right now. All he had was his words, stripped of his ability to fight.

“Punish me instead,” he said without hesitation. “Please. Just hurt me, not him.”

“Full of noble sacrifices, aren’t you? But, again, not an option. You think you’re in any state for that? Anyway, it’s a too little too late kinda scenario. You’ve been out for more or less a day.”

Rick froze. “Is he dead?” He didn’t know whether he could survive losing anyone else – especially not Daryl. The realisation made everything seem more real than it had. He blinked back the tears building in his eyes. His weaknesses were already obvious to Negan, it was a matter of that he didn't want to be the victim of all of this.

“Whatever I tell you, you’re not gonna be happy either way.”

“Please, tell me,” Rick said, his voice shaking. He needed the answer. Without knowing the answer, he had no control over the situation and control was what he needed. Not in the way Negan craved control, he just wanted to have options. Like when Negan gave him the choice of him or Alexandria, he could control the outcome. As of now, he was powerless.

He looked annoyed at Daryl being the sole subject on Rick's mind, and Rick believed he would snap at any time. Still, it didn't deter him from asking the question. If he was going to be stuck in this room, staring at blinding white ceiling, he wanted to either contemplate their escape or Negan's murder, and not live in uncertainty. Committing to one plan meant far less variables. “I tell you and that’s the end I hear of it, OK? I don’t want this going ‘round in circles thing going on. You’re pissed, I get pissed and somebody gets hurt. Not the epitome of a healthy relationship.”

“Just tell me,” Rick spat.

“He’s alive.”

Rick breathed out. His breathing didn't quite return to normal. He couldn’t shake the panic building up to that answer. He closed his eyes and took a few seconds to register his answer properly. Whatever he said, there was a chance he was lying, but the hope of him being alive was enough. It was likely Negan wanted more leverage than Rick for Alexandria, so it would have been a tactical move to keep him alive.

This meant escaping would be harder because there was no way he was leaving Daryl behind. And he didn’t know where he was being kept or what condition he was in. Maybe he would be planning something alone the same lines to him, some kind of impossible idea to get back home. The thing way Daryl would never leave him here, but all he wanted was to know Daryl was safe and trying to escape together would be a suicide mission.

“I _need_ to see him.”

“I thought we had a deal about you shutting up about him. I don’t want you talkin’ about him.” Rick was beginning to recognise that look was a look of jealousy; there was nothing complicated about it.

“Negan,” he said softly. It might have been the first time he had said his name without merely contempt. There was love behind it, yet it was not at all directed towards him. “I’ll do anything. Anything you want. Otherwise I won’t be able to think about anything else other than this. Please.”

There was a pause in which he could see Negan thinking.

“You get a few minutes.”

“Thank you,” Rick said before Negan would inevitably explain his reasoning, with actual weight behind his words. Rick put his arms around Negan and Negan hugged him gently back, careful not to hurt him anymore than he had already. He closed his eyes, wishing that it was anyone else he was with, though the strong smell of Negan’s aftershave made it hard.

“I’ll be back soon,” Negan finally said, pulling away from the hug. Negan’s response was surprising but whatever the reason was for giving Rick what he wanted would be a lie. The time was going so slowly while he was waiting. Unfortunately, his head injury didn’t give the illusion of time going faster.

The confirmation of Daryl being alive was the only thing that would bring in comfort.

As he began to think about why Negan had actually agreed, his mind began to wonder into the realms of whether Negan intended to hurt him some more. Perhaps asking to see him was selfish and would only result in more pain.

But he needed to know.

Only a few minutes must have passed before Negan came back in. He only knew that because he was watching the clock on the wall. The light ticking noise was soothing and distracted him. It was that tedious sound that he had blanked out before the apocalypse, but the small things like working batteries were now something to be thankful for.  
He pushed himself up more, so his back was no longer resting on the wooden bedframe, when the door opened. He didn't want to look as weak as he felt.

“Daryl?”

“A goddamn sight for sore eyes. Don’t expect anything pretty. My men roughed him up good,” Negan smirked, sitting next to Rick on the bed. “He’ll be here soon. Dwight said he’ll bring him over for me.”

“Why is he here?”

“He’s a good worker when he’s compliant. Maybe he’ll be more likely to take up the offer of becoming one of my men if I have you here. It might at least get rid of that attitude towards me. You’d think hurtin’ him ought to do it, but he’s tough to break.”

Rick scrunched the soft, cotton duvet in his hand and resisted from giving a bruise on the other side of his face to match the one Daryl had caused. He must have landed quite the punch since a large part of his cheek was swollen.

“Where have you been keeping him?”

“You know I can’t tell you that. Let’s just say solitary confinement and leave it at that.”

Rick almost jumped up when he saw Daryl come in through the door. And then he saw the injuries that had been inflicted on him. The black eye was the first thing that drew his gaze. And then the blood that had ran into his dirty sweater. Rick knew they must have just hurt him and then threw him in some cell without giving him anything else.

Daryl didn’t say a word and kept his eyes trained on the floor, only looking at Rick for a moment. He was silent either because he was ordered to be or because he had been pushed beyond the breaking point.

Rick tried to get up and go to his aid; he looked like he could barely stand. He felt so selfish that he had asked to see him in this condition. Negan stopped him.

“Stay in bed,” he ordered. He proceeded to kiss Rick on the lips for a long moment.

The thought of Daryl watching this and seeing that this was all he had become made him feel sick. He could tell that Negan was looking at Daryl while this was happening as if he was claiming him for his own.

Rick looked straight down at the bedsheets when Negan stopped kissing him, unable to look at Daryl. He dared to look up and he saw the pure hatred on Daryl’s face. He looked like he was trying to refrain from whatever idea was going through his head. At least he now understood why Negan had agreed to his request to see him.

Negan stood back up and walked over to Daryl. “You should have seen the goddamn wedding night. Consummatin’ the marriage and all that. Fuck, he’s better than most of my wives and I thought I preferred women.”

Daryl kept looking down, the muscles in his face twitching with anger.

Negan carried on.

“He really is amazing. God, I could fuck him all day long and then some. I don’t think I even need wives right now, he’s that good. The sex only seems to improve, maybe because he is learning how to take properly. I guess he ain’t done this much, but he’s really gettin’ the hang of it.”

With great restraint, Daryl kept his lips pressed together, knowing it may only cause Rick to suffer if he stepped out of line. He had never been scared of suffering for other people. When it came to the other way round, he couldn’t live with himself over that.

“The best thing is that this is a permanent arrangement and Rick is more than willing to do it. Obviously you can see we had a little dispute from the whole head injury thing, but I think he’s learnin’. You wanna see?”

“Nah,” Daryl murmured. Rick could see that even speaking hurt him.

“Seriously? You don’t wanna see how much of a good boy he is?” His words were meant to antagonise. Negan went back over to the bed and lay on it, pulling down Rick onto his chest. He was significantly less gentle with Daryl in the room. “Thanks to his little trick with the knife, I’m going to have to lay off any of the heavy stuff. Real shame.” He kissed the top of Rick’s head in a way a lover would do, contrasting his roughness from moments ago.

He started with the hair stroking again and it was so much worse in front of Daryl, humiliating and degrading.

“He’s pretty, don’t you think?” He carried on addressing Daryl directly, treating Rick like he wasn’t in the room. “I like a brunette. Soft curls. Bright blue eyes. Ideal in every way. Good muscle, though I don’t go for that with women, but not too much that you can’t overpower him. I like strong-minded too. Not too strong that he thinks rejecting me is a good idea mind.”

He trailed his finger over Rick’s lip. “The problem is that he seems to despise me sometimes and I have no idea why. So, I killed a friend or two? He probably didn’t like one of them all that much as well. Though, lucky for me, he had a lot of buttons I can press.”

He reached into his holster and took out his gun, pointing it at Daryl. “I don’t like to use guns as much as Lucille, but for the sake of convenience-”

“-No,” Rick interrupted. “Don’t. Please, don't.”

“And proving my point. Now, I ain’t asking for much, but why don’t you put those hands to use. Get me off a little.”

“He ain’t doing that,” Daryl spoke up, but Negan ignored him. His focus was on Rick and Rick alone.

“Not in front of him,” Rick stated, nodding towards Daryl. There was no way he could have him watch him hit that low. It wasn't so bad in private. Sometimes Negan actually seemed like he cared. This show was purely revenge for Daryl acting out, to make a point - plain and simple. Violence wasn't necessary.

“You think it’s up for debate.”

Rick didn’t bother undoing his belt and hesitantly began to slide his hand down Negan’s trousers. Negan threw a cold-eyed smile in Daryl's direction and that's when he lost it and went for Lucille, reckless to the consequence of being shot.

_Predictable._

It was like a thing Negan played out in his head. Negan turned the gun to Rick and pushed it against the side of his head. He was never going to shoot, but it was only important that Daryl thought he would. “Come on, Daryl. Not a smart move.” Rick shook his head and begged with his eyes for him not to act. Daryl went back towards the door at his gesture.

“Carry on,” Negan grinned, and Rick obeyed. He kept his eyes on Daryl without paying attention to Rick. It was like he knew how Daryl felt about him and he was powerless to stop what was going on. With a tender touch, Rick rubbed up and down his length, desperate for it to end. It didn’t take long for Negan to come in this demonstration.

“I’ll let you see him again,” Negan said to Daryl. “So long as Rick behaves well.”

He knew exactly how to play with them both and that terrified Rick.


	5. Chapter 5

After a week, Rick was feeling a lot better physically. His mental state was another story. For the entire time, he had been constrained to his room for his own ‘good’. For once, it was actually something he was OK with; he had never got to rest long for injuries before that were a lot worse than this. Negan hadn’t spent much of that week in his bed. He wasn’t sure whether it was because one of his wives was keeping him company or whether he felt guilty about the injuries he caused and had decided to give him some much needed space. Either way he was thankful. Though, that didn’t mean he had actually slept all that well.

He still had a lot to do. He carried on noting down everything he could in his journal. He remembered some of the other block they went into, though it was kind of sketchy. Any little extra detail was valuable. He made sure Negan didn’t find it, stashing it away under one of the loose floorboards. It seemed hopeless at times because he knew essentially nothing about this place, yet it helped distract him.

He hadn’t seen Daryl since, even though he had asked Negan often. After all, Daryl was the only person in this place that he actually wanted to spend time with. Still, Negan liked to pretend the whole thing was either unimportant or non-existent, barely spending more than a minute on the subject. Apparently some subjects were only relevant when Negan himself decided they were – a trait he learnt Negan possessed the moment he got here. The rest of the time, Negan liked to pretend there was nothing wrong with the arrangement, like they were just another married couple like any other.

“How you doin’, princess?” Negan questioned, a tinge of sincerity to it bar the irritating use of the pet name, bringing in breakfast like he had done every day that week. He rested the tray on his lap while Rick lay in bed, propped up on quite a few pillows. Negan had brought him probably half of the pillows and blankets in this place over to his room, and seemingly half of a library he had found and whatever else he had that could amount to one of his hobbies. Rick hadn’t spoken much about himself, so Negan had to guess to give him something to do. The knitting needles and wool was one of the ones that annoyed Rick the most, even if he had genuinely knitted a scarf he had hid. He didn’t even know he remembered how to knit since it was Lori that taught him as a joke before the apocalypse. It did at least resemble a scarf. Rick didn’t enjoy reading all that much, so something more practical did actually help. Still, it didn’t mean the notion of Negan thinking to bring him the knitting kit didn’t annoy the hell out of him.

“Better.” He was being honest at least. He stopped himself from bringing up Daryl or anyone from Alexandria again, knowing it was futile.

“You look it. Colour’s back in your cheeks…” Negan paused like he was at a loss for words. “Sun’s out. We could go outside for a bit, instead of you being holed up in here. A bit a fresh air might do a world of good.” Rick tried to hide his amusement at how Negan almost was attempting small talk

“The window’s open,” Rick noted, an eyebrow raised. 

“Come on, you must be dying to get out of here and I don’t blame you. How about I stop by at lunch and we eat outside?”

“Like a picnic?” Negan’s face stayed straight – he wasn’t joking.

“Call it what you like, sweetheart. Just saying it might do some good, take your mind off things. Give me a chance to show you I’m not just the big bad guy you think I am. I’ll be honest here. I threw you in the deep end of this whole marriage and I haven’t been as good a husband as I should’ve been. So, let me make it up to you. What do you say?”

“I get a choice?” Rick asked, uncertain.

“There’s usually two answers to a question. Pick either one, I won’t be pissed. I’m an understanding guy and I hurt you, I get why you might say no. But, before you say no, I want to tell you a few things.”

Negan looked to him like he was waiting for the go-ahead.

“Not like I’ve got anything else to do.” He didn’t believe that this wasn’t some kind of different act Negan was putting on.

“I’ve had time to think about this all and I think it’s fair to say I’ve been a dick.” Rick bit back his agreement. “I treated you like my enemy. I saw you as an enemy and I hurt you like one, which was real shitty of me. You see me like that too and I don’t blame you. I’m not proud of what I did. You might have agreed to marry me and share my bed, but you didn’t fucking agree to that other shit.”

Agree was a strong word. There was not much of a choice.

“And you probably think it’s a trick with me apologising. Believe me, it’s not something I do often where I admit I did bad. But this is one of those rare instances where I admit I fucked up. So, I’m gonna propose that we take this at your pace. You don’t try to kill me – or any of my men – and then you get to call the shots. I ain’t even gonna touch you if you don’t want me to.”

“Not at all?”

“Not at all. Cross my heart and hope to die. You let me take you on a few dates and if you hate every moment of them, I’ll drop you back off at Alexandria. Of course I’m not letting them out the give me your supplies deal we’ve got going on if you go back there, but there are no other strings attached.”

“And what about Daryl? Does he get to go back if I agree to this?”

“Rick, you must understand he’s a bit of a loose cannon when it comes to these things. I let him waltz out of here and he’s probably gonna storm up some trouble in some stupid attempt to rescue the damsel in distress.”

“He won’t.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday, I saw the way he looked at you when you were hurt. He would.”

“What?” Rick said with a quizzical look.

“And I don’t like the way he’s looks at my husband. That’s usually an offence punishable by a quick iron to the face at least.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Jesus, Rick. You have got it going on back at Alexandria. Can see why you like it so much. It’s not just Daryl over there, you’ve got the mean lady with the Samurai whose been asking about you and God knows who else. And I thought I had a lot of love interests.”

Rick sat up instantly. “You’ve been there?”

“I have. And they’re doing great. I even let them keep some more supplies this week because I felt a little more generous than usual. Michonne’s looking out for Carl and Judith, and everybody seems to be asking about you, not so many words for poor Daryl. They want to see you and while we are starting again with our dating, I’m gonna take you back there. We could even take a week out. Like a holiday. Sit on the porch with a few beers, you staring coldly at me and sitting in silence, brooding most likely. Me commenting on how good you look when you pout, only to get a fierce stare back. What sounds more perfect?”

“Alright.” He would agree to anything if it gave him the chance to see his family. If they had a plan of action, it would be the perfect situation to fill him in.

“Right, I didn’t sum up our relationship right because I forgot the one word replies that seem to lack in emotion completely. Lucky for us, I can do most of the talkin’ on these dates and you can maintain that silent, probably planning and calculating some violent revenge in my head, thing you’ve got going on. Don’t get me wrong, I find it as hot as hell, but it doesn’t make the conversations flow all that well. I guess a response is better than no response. Alright, let’s make it a rule that you have to speak at least one full sentence on these dates that isn’t about my inevitable demise?”

“It’s only a deal if you promise you won’t bring up that will piss me off.” By that, he meant basically every part of their relationship up to this point. He couldn’t believe he was actually agreeing to a date with the person who killed his friends and had Daryl severely beaten up.

“Seems fair enough. I better get on with a bit of business before our soppy, romantic picnic.” Rick imagined that business involved terrorizing some other poor group.  
“You’re the one who made it that way.”

“Don’t remind me. You’ll love it. I bet you have a real soft spot for these things. I should have totally bought you some flowers to complete the picture.”

“I always preferred chocolate,” Rick answered, not realising how flirtatious is actually came across when he said it.

“Sweet tooth, huh? Would’ve never had that one down.” He was about to leave, but he turned back for a few final words. “You know I would have never shot you, right? When Daryl was here, it was just to scare him. Not you.”

“I’ve had a gun pointed at my head enough to not be scared of it.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Believe me, that is the last part of what bothered me about it.”

“Without sounding like my heart’s bleeding, I didn’t mean to humiliate you. I’ll never put you in that position again.” Negan’s sustained eye contact made it harder to determine whether it was genuine or some game he was playing.

“Why’d you do it then if not to get at me?”

“Daryl, the way you talked about him got to me. And he wouldn’t shut up about you either. I’m not saying I was jealous-”

“-I get it. It’s like when your high school crush is giving looks to another boy in class,” Rick teased, making it seem far more light hearted than the subject they would be heading for. There was a hint of amusement in his expression just at how Negan seemed to genuine about what he was saying, when what he was admitting was so petty – though Negan’s response to Daryl wasn’t quite so amusing.

A genuine look of surprise appeared across Negan’s face. “Wow, is that- are you actually mocking me?”

“I wouldn’t describe it as me speaking about your inevitable demise. Deal’s a deal.”

“I wasn’t exactly thinkin’ you’d keep up to your end of the bargain.”

“I’ll try.” 

And he would try because that was his only play, yet he knew he would have to accept Negan’s affections given time. There were only so many times he could refuse. He believed the part about being allowed the space he needed, but he didn’t believe the part about, after all of Negan’s effort, he would just be allowed to go back to Alexandria if it didn’t work out. He wasn’t a man who would just give up and let something go.

After Negan left, he had a long shower. The hot water felt good against his skin. It was nice knowing he could spend as long as he liked under the steaming water, without needing to work off his use of water like everybody else in this place. He wasn’t quite sure how the points system worked, and he was pretty sure it didn’t exactly apply to him since he was married to the man in charge.

The water helped almost cleanse his mind. His headaches, a result from the concussion, seemed a lot better after a shower. He took some quite effective painkiller for them as well. He hadn’t been able to shake the mind-set that somehow taking painkiller in this world was wrong. Perhaps it was the logic of what didn’t kill him made him stronger. Or that painkiller was so hard to come by now wasting it on a headache seemed careless.

Forcing himself to leave the comforting nature of the shower, he went onto trim his bead and get ready for the ‘date’ after towel drying his hair. He had washed and put on some uncreased clothes from the wardrobe; it was as much effort as he was willing to make. A grey shirt and dark jeans were the first he took out and he put them on with little care in keeping them in their neat condition.

There was nothing else to do than go back to the book on the bedside table, a folded page bookmarking it, and wait. The words on the page helped distract his focus from thinking about the man he was going to be in the company of in hours’ time.


	6. Chapter 6

Negan was almost speechless when he came in. _Almost._

“Jesus, you scrub up well. I mean you were hot before, but shit. Makes me feel guilty I didn’t put more effort in.”

“I only showered,” Rick said, unamused.

“How’s it fair you look that good with minimum effort then?”

Rick’s face, like stone, didn’t change. He was like a book full of the worst lines imaginable, no matter how much charisma he delivered them with, they would never be good. Nevertheless, Negan would most likely slip even more in whenever possible.

“You ready then?”

Rick nodded.

“Before we go…” Negan brought out a box full of chocolates from behind his back in an overly dramatic manner. “I got you these.”

“Where’s the flowers?” Rick kidded, accepting the gift. For a second, it looked as if Negan was deciding whether he was actually being serious. It was a nice surprise, not that he was going to give Negan the satisfaction of knowing it.

“You know, you’ve really got to work on your cracking a joke face. Maybe a smile. Some tell-tale sign. Alright, I think I’m gonna try do the impossible on this date and make Rick Grimes actually laugh, or smile at least.”

That seemed unlikely.

Negan held his arm for him to hold. Rick walked past his arm and turned on his heels to his direction. “You said my terms.”

“That I did. I was thinking you’d give me the littlest bit of sugar though. Not even arm contract, damn, you really are leaving me out in the cold.”

He made a gesture for Negan to lead on. He followed, keeping enough distance between him and Negan that it wouldn’t piss him off. Forgiveness had never been his strong-suit and even the thought of sitting beside the man that had subjected him to such horrors was disturbing. And he was going on a literal date with him where he would be forced to share the same space as him. And he needed to keep himself and Daryl safe by playing along.

They went out one of the end of the corridor’s doors. Negan held the door open for him. The sun was that bright he had to squint to see properly. Immediately, his focus went to the bright, red parasol over a bench out in the small, empty field. Upon it lay a couple of baskets, which presumably contained some food, and a bottle of some vintage wine. The bench had cream seat cushions contrasting the dark, brown wood.

Rick sat down at the bench, before Negan did, and reached inside a basket. For once, he was hungry. The freshly made sandwiches looked pretty appetizing and he dug right in. Negan sat down opposite him and stared at him when he started eating.

“What?” Rick mumbled, his mouth full.

“Nothing important. I don’t know, maybe I was expecting some sort of reaction at the beautiful scene I prepared just for you on this nice summer’s day.”

“Thanks,” Rick said without stopping eating. Remembering their deal, he added, “You’ve really outdone yourself.” Sure his tone was dripping with sarcasm, but it was still upholding a conversation. It would have been a nice gesture in any other circumstance.

Negan uncorked the wine and poured it into one of the glasses. When Rick went to grab it, he pulled it back from his reach. “Not you, you’re keeping a clear head. What kind of guy would I be if I was tryna get you drunk on the first date?”

 _The kind that would force someone into a marriage._ And now he was bothered about having his full consent? Rick felt sick at how distorted his morals were. He had already forced himself on him, _raped him_. Multiple times. Was he trying to kid himself? Of course he didn’t say that, instead he commented, “It’s not like I’m gonna get drunk of one glass.” “Only if you want to spend later throwing up from mixing wine and painkiller with me holding your hair back over the toilet seat? I don’t think either of us wants to spend our evenings doing that.”

“Point taken.” Negan poured some chilled lemonade out of a jug into Rick’s glass and slid it forward. He took a sip and the coolness touching his lips was bliss in the heat, even under the shade of the umbrella it was burning hot.

“Honestly, do you like it?” Negan questioned in a way suggesting he wanted Rick’s validation and his was the only opinion worth hearing.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” he replied. If it had been with his family, it would have truly been a perfect day.

“So, is this the part where I get to ask you questions and do the whole getting’ to know you?” For someone who had so many wives, Rick was confused by how unsmooth he was at this.

“Fire away, I guess.”

“Your enthusiasm is astounding! So, I’ve got a question I’d really like answering about what it is you do when you aren’t working for your people?”

A surprisingly hard first question. Recurring hobbies were not something you took into an apocalypse. Plus, letting Negan know the little detail about his life made this marriage seem all the more real. “I- I’m not sure. Look after Judith mostly.”

“I more meant something that you do for fun,” Negan said, biting a large part of a sandwich. “The definition of fun being something you do for enjoyment, in case you are unfamiliar with the word.”

“I used to like workin’ on the crops back at the prison we had. That was a long time ago though.”

“Sounds like a depressing place to make a camp,” he chirped. “You know, I’ve got all that going on here. You could put in a hard day’s work. See if you like it nowadays. Plus I wouldn’t mind seeing you all hot and sweaty.”

The drinks of lemonade gave him a bit of time to deal with Negan’s overly forward words. “You’d be OK with me working?”

“Work’s the wrong choice of word. I’d be alright with you taking it up as a hobby and you can stop whenever you like. So long as you like it, you can do it. Not like the rest who are constantly working to make sure their kids can eat or whatever. Providing it isn’t dangerous because I’m not putting my best husband at the front line.”

“I’m a good fighter.”

“And I’ll take you hunting for some deer at some point. Let you be the breadwinner for a day. You can show off those expert shooting skills of yours. Get the shot right through its high shoulder.”

“I’d be happy just shooting some targets.” The time Carl got shot when he was right up close to the deer had stuck with him that hunting was never an appealing thought. Negan took it as his moral complex.

“What you can kill a man in his sleep, but when it comes to a defenceless deer fuck no?”

“Deer’s done nothing wrong. We don’t need to kill it for survival if we have other sources of food.” He went with Negan’s interpretation, even if it didn’t directly correspond to his actual beliefs these days – maybe before all of this he would have held that idea. It was true to some extent: if he did have a gun and was alone in the woods with Negan, it wouldn’t be the deer he would be shooting. 

Besides, it was entertaining to watch Negan work out whether he was playing with him or not. “Hug trees in your spare time too? You’re telling me I married one of them? Admittedly, I am a fan of that softer side you try so desperately to hide. You think it brings out my best?”

“You have that setting?”

“Why else are we on a date and I’m doin’ my best to make it up to you?” Rick wondered whether the man genuinely held the belief that putting this on would absolve him of his crimes. “Alright, next question, and I think I already know the answer on this one or at least have a good guess. What’d you do before the world went to shit?”

“What’s your guess?”

“The way you carry yourself and all that badass attitude you’ve got going on,” Negan started, looking up and down Rick to evaluate and affirm his guess, “I’d say – with my keen power of deduction... You must have been a model.”

Rick didn’t know why he expected a serious answer from this man. He felt his face redden a little, though quickly regained his cool exterior. “Well, maybe like a one-off thing, but never a full-time job. You’re not wrong at least.” His attempt at humour was designed to stop this turning into a proper conversation where there were actual feelings involved. The last thing he wanted was to connect, yet it felt like that was what he was doing, despite his best efforts not to.

“See, that’s another problem I’m having with this because you honestly making it fucking impossible for me to tell whether you’re playin’ with me. One hell of a poker face you’ve got there. Remind me to bring you along to the next game.”

“Truth is, I was a cop,” he answered properly. It’s not like that truth held much weight to it; it was a past life he could no longer connect to. He was far from the man who woke up clueless in that hospital bed.

“Predictable as shit, no offence. No wonder you’re so handy with a gun. Honourable profession, I can see why you are willing to go any length to save your people.”

_Even marry, evidently._

“Not like I did it well enough,” Rick said without thinking first, dampening the tone of the conversation. Negan didn’t look affected by it, though it was a direct reference to his friends’ deaths.

“Look around, Rick. You ain’t got that burden to carry around anymore. I’m protecting you and your people, and you can say all the bullshit you like about how you don’t want it, especially not from me, but you must feel some kind of new found freedom.”

“All I want is for my people to be safe.”

“You don’t get it, do you? My point is they are right as rain.” Apart from Abraham, Glenn, and Daryl. He hadn’t seen Alexandria since this arrangement and there could be many more names on that list. Admittedly, that list went on a lot longer considering his past without Negan. It wasn’t a subject he liked to dwell on.

Negan continued, “Sure, they have to contribute and give back, but that’s what a community is. We’ll go back there, like I said.” He poured him a bit more lemonade into Rick’s glass. “And in the meantime, you get to enjoy yourself. Lie back a little; take the weight off your feet. And, if you let me, I could give you a pretty good massage.”

“Thanks for the offer, but no thanks.” Those hands were bound to make him think about the wounds from the previous week, both physically and mentally. The bitter wine – although he wasn’t the biggest fan of wine – would have done the world in helping him relax. Unfortunately, it was not an option.

“Let me,” Negan insisted. “One of my wives taught me a few things about it.” He ignored Rick’s polite refusal again and went around to the back of him – so much for him taking it at his pace. Negan pressed his hand down exactly on the right parts of Rick’s back, and moved them with a good amount of pressure in circular motions. It felt good, even if it did feel completely possessive. It felt better when he closed his eyes and relaxed into it, forgetting the man giving him the massage.

He could almost hear Negan’s grin as he accepted it.

“Told you you’d like it. Your muscles are tight and knotted as hell. Is this all the injustice and need for vengeance built up across the years?”

“Something like that.”

Negan carried on talking, not that he listened. He kept his eyes closed and felt the warmth of the sun fade as it went behind clouds. Not that it mattered. God, it felt good to let go of all that built up tension for the briefest of moments.

He only paid attention when Negan suddenly stopped speaking. He hadn’t noticed that it had begun to rain though it the rain drops reflecting off the parasol were loud. “-head inside,” Negan finished, Rick catching the end of his sentence.

“Can’t deal with a bit of rain?” He wanted to stay outside. Sharing a room with Negan seemed too intimate a setting.

“Hey, I’m not saying that we’ve got to stop the date due to a little bad weather. Just take it elsewhere. Or call it quits, obviously. It’s in your hands.”

“I don’t know.” He wanted so badly to take the second option, but the way Negan snapped without warning made his behaviour unpredictable, especially since he combined his poor sense in humour with his anger.

“Well, here,” Negan smiled, putting his leather jacket around Rick’s shoulders. He instantly tensed up at the gesture. “I can’t let you get all wet after you cleaned up especially for me. Don’t give me that stare, Rick. Not like I’m escorting you to the door with an umbrella, is it?”

Rick pulled the leather jacket firmly across himself as he stepped out into the rain. Accepting the man’s gestures seemed like an effective way to stay on his good side.  
“I am more than willing to carry you across the mud, princess.” Rick didn’t know how to respond to that other than a glare. “Alright, I get you. I’ll stop trying to be a gentleman for you. Instead of going back to the room, how about I show you about your new home a little? Give you some actual shit to put in that plan of escape journal of yours.”

Rick’s eyes widened. Why wasn’t he furious about it, bringing it up at the height of some argument rather than casually? “It’s not-”

“For escaping? Maps with exits drawn on, my guys’ shift changes, and the list goes on. You’re a real artist, Rick. It is detailed and accurate, I almost admire it. Though you need to hide it better. Floorboards, really? You must think I’m really lacking in the brains department. I would argue that’s more your friends…” Rick’s hand tightened into a fist. “Sorry, my fault, I said I wouldn’t bring it up. Look, I get why you did it, just like I get the knife. Can’t blame a frightened deer for kicking out. You don’t want to do this and it’s my job to convince you it’s not so bad.”

“Do you think I will ever believe that?” Rick didn’t.

“Sure, you’ve just need to get used to it. Soon you’ll be begging for it and shouting my name in a sexy kind of way.”

_Only as a strategy, if necessary._

“Now, let’s head inside before you get soaked. I’ll give you the tour of our great facilities. Call it research. Start off ‘round the back?” It was funny how every question sounded like an order.

He gave a small nod.

“Forgive me if I ask you to walk in front of me. We’re not at the trusting stage yet, Ricky, and they’ll be a few sharps things layin’ around. Personally, I prefer to see their faces when I’m about to kill them, and I’m guessing you have no honour in that.”

“I only hurt people who are a threat.”

“Like a fair leader,” Negan concurred, putting an arm securely around Rick’s shoulders as they walked onwards. “Sorry, you good with this?”

No. “Yes.” The possessive way he held him felt like he was nothing more than his trophy husband. Ownership through marriage.

Negan went onto continue to talk about his camp, particularly his security measures as if he was trying to highlight how Rick had no chance of getting him and Daryl out.  
“The fence we have is one of our many main defences. No one’s getting through that in a hurry with their entrails inside their body.” They came up to the fence at the back, trudging through the sodden mud from the ongoing shower. Walkers were chained all along the fence, lurching towards the people the other side of the fence.

As soon as he saw Daryl working on the fence, he shook himself from Negan’s grip and ran towards him. Rick shouted his name. He went straight up to the fence, the putrid smell of the walker trying to grab at him was overpowering. Daryl looked no better than he had done last week. And that was with the heavy rain wiping away the built up sweat in his hair from the work, and any dried blood left behind from the more recent injuries.

This time didn’t feel like an accident that they were seeing each other. Perhaps Negan liked doing anything to separate him, putting the barrier of metal and hungry dead in between them. There was no way Daryl was able to get to him, even though he was trying to push the walkers out of the way to reach the place Rick was. 

Negan pulled him away from the fence. “Careful. I wouldn’t be a good husband if I let you near any immediate harm. You’ll get to see Daryl another time. So long as he doesn’t major fuck up with his job and get himself killed.” He put his arm back around Rick and guided him towards the door at the side of the building.

Daryl made a nod towards Rick to say he was alright, yet they both knew that was not the truth. Rick turned his attention to the door, but he could see out of the corner of his eye that Negan’s expression. He was looking at Daryl the same way he had before, gloating about Rick being his.

That was anything but the case.

Negan was his captor, playing house. It was pretend feelings built on the foundations of deceit and violence. Yet, what was terrifying was that Negan seemed to be driven by other things past lust. He wanted the emotions that Rick could never give him.

Before entering the camp, Negan wiped the rain droplets from Rick’s face with a gentle motion. His eyes were made up of the brightest of blues, which Negan believed to be his best feature. There was only so long Rick could look into his dark eyes before looking down, but the other man brought his head back up with his hand.

“Would kissing you in the rain be too cheesy and would you hate every moment?”

He watched Rick with eager eyes as he thought about it. “I could live with it.” The phrasing didn’t suggest he wanted him to, but Negan took it as an invitation anyway. With one hand behind his head, he guided him to his lips. There was no lust, only longing as he pressed his lips to his. He could feel Daryl’s eyes on him, knowing he was dreaming about a million ways he could kill Negan.

“My jacket really suits you, you know?” Negan remarked, finally pulling away. “After you.” He opened the door and Rick shared one last look with Daryl, never sure after each encounter whether he would see him again.


	7. Chapter 7

Every time he saw Negan with his hands all over Rick, it made him feel sick. It made him feel sick because he was powerless to stop it. Instead, Daryl watched from the side lines with sleepless eyes. He couldn’t help blame himself for letting it happen, like he blamed himself for Glenn. He’d never seen Rick like this. There was something different about him – in his eyes. Every look he gave him felt broken, worsening each time he saw him. The gaps between seeing him made it all the more noticeable.

His own injuries felt insignificant compared. He would take all the beatings possible if it meant he could get the other man to safety. The most recent injuries were from matters concerning Rick. It was a couple of days ago. He had heard how the men talked about Negan’s new ‘bitch’ and he snapped.

They talked about Rick in front of him, not holding back on the graphic detail of what they would do if they ‘owned’ him themselves. That seemed to be their favoured conversation topic around Daryl when he slaved away with his duties, while they stood idly on their breaks.

_I bet Grimes really knows how to take it down the throat._

_I’d get him on his knees with his mouth open ready like a good whore._

_Imagine those fucking pouty lips around your dick._

Before Daryl knew it, he was on one of them, caving his face in with his fist. On the first punch, he must have broken his nose with the impact. He got a few more punches in before the beatings inevitably followed.

He hadn’t seen the Savior he beat up since, though the others seemed to talk about Rick even more as a vile kind of revenge in his honour. It was strange they seemed scared of him like how you’d be scared a wild animal let loose out of a cage. Even though they outnumbered him and came out always on top, nobody wanted to be _that_ guy. The one with the black eye, broken nose or whatever injury Daryl could land instead.

It didn’t stop them from provoking him. They simply knew to keep their distance when doing so.

While in his cell, he couldn’t stop thinking about seeing Negan in absolute control of Rick and what he could possibly be doing to him or asking him to do. What worried him was how he was leverage to be used against Rick. He wished Rick would just say _no_ to whatever Negan wanted from him and fight back, and get the hell away from this place, regardless of the punishment that would ensue for himself.

But if Rick had proved anything in the years he knew him, it was that he was selfless. He’d sacrifice his life for who he loved. And he’d sacrifice so much more than that.

But Daryl would too. If he had the slightest chance of killing Negan with the cost of his life, he would take it. Yet, Rick’s life too? That made it so much more difficult because if it came down to that choice, he knew he would back down and allow Negan to win.

-

A few days later, he saw Rick coming down the corridor Daryl was mopping. The mop was tinted red from the blood, most likely his own, he was cleaning up.

He was expecting Negan to come trailing around the corner, yet Rick seemed to be alone, which was strange and Daryl didn’t trust it. He felt as though eyes were permanently watching them both. A moment alone in this camp seemed impossible. They weren’t allowed it before, so why now?

“Daryl,” Rick acknowledged, something getting caught in his throat.

Neither of them had a proper conversation since before all of this went down and now Daryl found himself stuck for words after being desperate to speak to him. Daryl stood there silent, holding the mop against the floor as support from his injuries. What could he possibly say? He wanted to tell him that he was coming for him, that he was going to help him escape tonight and he knew somewhere safe. Right now, it would have been a string of lies and false hope. He spent most of his time working or in a cell, Saviors watching him vigilantly at all times. He attempted plans in his head, all failing somewhere along the line.

“You’re hurt?” Rick posed it as a question, despite the evidence of Daryl’s swollen face before him. He reached forward instinctively to check Daryl’s facial injuries.

Daryl couldn’t help back away, mechanically. “I’m fine,” he replied quietly, brushing his hand away. They stood there for a moment, unease lingering in the air, each taking into account the other’s circumstance, until Daryl spoke again. “He hurt you?”

Rick shook his head, truthfully. “No, not since- not since that night.”

He didn’t have to mention what night as they both knew what he was referring to.

“What happened?” Rick said, taking the subject back to Daryl’s face. As Rick didn’t want to talk about Negan, Daryl didn’t want to open up his own degrading treatment. Maybe because they both thought the other had it worse.

“Doesn’t matter,” he muttered. He realised this was the first time he had spoken since seeing Negan had brought him in his bedroom. His voice was noticeably shaky, yet Rick didn’t choose to mention it. “What’s he doin’?” Daryl asked, referring to Negan and ignoring how closed off Rick wanted to remain about it.

“He’s gone to Alexandria.” Hopelessness was a tone Daryl didn’t hear much coming from Rick, but it was plain as day when he did hear it. “Wanted to deal with getting the tribute himself.”

Daryl hesitated before clarifying what he meant. “I mean what’s he doin’ to you?”

There was a certain vulnerability to Rick’s next facial expression. “Nothing. We’re talking. Just… talking.”

“Talkin’?”

“Just about us.” The use of _us_ made Daryl want to take Negan on single-handedly more than he already did. Smashing Negan’s head with Lucille – the same bat that killed Abraham and Glenn – seemed like divine justice.

“I’m fine,” Rick said, mirroring what Daryl previously said. Daryl watched as he awkwardly shifted on his feet like he was deciding what to say next and whether it was worth the repercussions if discovered. He knew Rick would know far much more information that he did, since he most likely had seen more of the complex.

“You think he’s gonna hurt you again?” Daryl questioned. A punishment was only worth taking if it was his and not Rick’s to bear. Rick had been through enough already.

“I don’t know. He seems- he seems…” Rick couldn’t find the right word and trailed off.

Daryl didn’t know why, but he instinctively went for his hand as a form of comfort like he had when Rick was taken to the infirmary. It took Rick a few seconds before he realised the consequences Daryl would suffer if this was seen, and he abruptly pulled his hand away. Rick looked up and down the corridor with fear in his eyes.

Once he was satisfied no one was listening, he turned back to Daryl. He jammed a piece of crumbled paper into Daryl’s hand with a map of the camp on it.

Rick leaned in towards Daryl, his voice near silent. “I’ll get you a key out.”

Daryl shook his head in disbelief, staring down at the map. “Nah, not without you.”

He checked the corridor again, though they both were looking in the opposite direction to each other. “I can’t- I can’t come. You don’t have anybody watching you all day. You get out. Go to the Hilltop. They won’t look for you there.”

“I ain’t leavin’ you here.”

“We don’t have time to argue.”

“Negan’ll notice a key’s missin’. What you gonna do then?”

“It’s better one of us gets out of here. Negan hasn’t hurt me again and-”

“Yet. He ain’t hurt again _yet_. You think he won’t as soon as I’m out and he finds out you did it. He’ll be pissed as hell. I ain’t leavin’.”

“Please.” His soft voice broke out into a whisper of desperation.

And now he was in the position of leaving him behind at his wish or to go against the logical option and get Rick out instead. Rick was right in that he was being watched more than Daryl, yet he shook his head anyway.

However, take away the leverage Negan had and Rick had a better chance to fight back without the threat of Daryl being beat up for his mistakes. But, Daryl felt this was more likely to result in pain than a result. Rick would do something reckless and he would be the only one to reap that punishment. Negan already had the leverage of all of Alexandria.

He ignored Rick’s begging eyes. “Like I said, I ain’t leavin’ you.

Rick snapped. “And what can you do if you’re here? What can you do here if he decides he’s gonna…”

That reality hit Daryl.

He would be stuck inside that cell and maybe catch the new bruises at a passing glance after another one of Negan’s planned encounters. And then he would watch Rick follow Negan to somewhere unreachable.

Daryl’s face contorted from the guilt he felt to which Rick amended his tone, going softer. “If I play this right, I reckon I can get him to trust me a little more. Make my move then.”

Honesty, however brutal, seemed like the best way forward. “He’s always gonna suspect something. He’s never gonna let his guard down.”

“It’s the best plan I’ve got.”

“It won’t work.”

“Well maybe it’s not going to be so bad if I stay,” Rick said abruptly. He ran his hand through his freshly washed curls and breathed out a deep breath. “It’s not so bad now he’s stopped… It’s not that bad. I can get used to this... We’re looking at all-out war with the Saviors if I leave. Alexandria is the first place Negan’s heading. I won’t have anyone else die because of me.”

There was the underlying reason. _Rick’s guilt._

Daryl wondered whether he saw this whole arrangement as a punishment for whatever mistakes he thinks he made. The cell had the same effect for him. If he hadn’t lashed out, Glenn could be alive right now.

“And I won’t have shit happen to you because of me,” Daryl said, catching Rick’s eye when he glanced up from the wet floor.

Rick breathed a defeated sigh. “Yeah, and it could happen anyway with you here. The whole point is you don’t have to be in the middle of this.” This time, Rick was the one to act and he pulled him into an embrace. It was a couple of seconds of the feeling of security that lasted even when Rick drew away.

It had the effect of making Daryl even less willing to leave him behind, though it was the only thing Rick wanted.

“I’ll be alright,” Rick stated firmly. His body was tense. “As long as you get out.”

Daryl heard footsteps coming from around the corner and turned his head to check it out. When he looked back, Rick had already gone. He carried on mopping, concentrating on anything else other than the real issues, which were hard to stomach right now.

If anyone deserved to get out, it was Rick. How could he forgive himself for leaving him behind? Rick would never do the same and if he did, he was going to come back.

And that’s exactly what he planned to do too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long! Thank you for all the kudos, comments and feedback!! :)


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